Saturday, December 30, 2006

Last call for contest entries

Hey...this is your last call for the December 2006 newsletter and blog posting contests. Post today and tomorrow to get your name into the drawing for the blog posting, and read your newsletter and reply to the question in it by tomorrow if you want to be considered for that drawing. Gift certificates will be given out Monday or Tuesday probably. Won't that be a great way to start the new year?

I am working on many projects, so can't spend too much time here today. I've got the Wolf God/Shadow Walking Witch thing in the works, and I'm doing final edits on an sf story that is hopefully going into Unbelievable Stories soon. (That's gotta be looked at first this morning.)

And I've got SO many other things hitting my head that it's spinning. Okay...laugh at me (again) if you want...answer this...which title would draw your attention faster?

Friday, December 29, 2006

Sexcerpt

Okay...this is either gonna make you say I GOTTA READ THIS BOOK or steer away from it. Brandon saved Sandy from dying after she was gang raped. He fell in love with her at first sight, but she's the daughter of his father's enemy. He can't go to her without getting killed by the very men that attacked her.

So, he sits alone in his line shack, drinking, thinking, trying to figure out how he can see her again--mostly feeling awful about not crossing the boundary lines earlier--thinking he might have been able to prevent the rape. Thinking the whiskey isn't deadening the pain enough, he takes some swigs out of the silver flask that contains Raven's Mischief--the addictive potion that saved her life on the night of the rape, and bound them together with magic.

His drinks make her flask vibrate, and make her crave the liquid--just a sip--and to see him. Except, she slides through some space/time continuum thing and comes out in her crinos form on the other end--because she's so angry over all that's happened to her. This is the first time it happens.

Warning: (Okay, I'm laughing over this. Sorry, I have a bad, bad sense of humor.)She bites him down below. He lets her. It hurts but he sort of masochistically thinks he deserves all she dishes out. So, if you can't imagine ever being so angry at a man that he deserves getting his cock bit, you probably won't wanna read this. LOL

And then, one night, late—near the time that he’d saved her life, he decided to try it again. Just a sip…to chase the whiskey he’d been drinking. But, then, after he took a sip, he thought, “I need a real drink.” The next swig warmed him all the way through and the one after that blurred his vision. That was about the time he noticed the flask vibrating. Seconds later, the interior of the cabin distorted. Something furry leaped through some miracle, the distortion of time and space, knocking him from the chair. Pouncing him with unerring accuracy. A werewolf! A crinos female with claws that slashed through his clothing, scraping into his chest. She took him so much by surprise that he could do nothing but hold her at arm’s length—the second he realized she was going for his jugular. That made him angry. He crinosed and rolled her, pinning her beneath him, asking, “You like that, bitch? I’ve got—” He was going to say fangs and claws, too, but suddenly he recognized her by scent. Instantly, his whole demeanor changed. “Baby, baby…how did you get here?” Before she could react, he started kissing her. A hundred little baby kisses all over her face. And licks. A thousand tender ministrations from a wolf man in love. In terrible, horrid, desperate love. At first, she dodged his lips and tongue, her whole body tense, anger at being held down so intense that she sweated the endorphins from her pores, but he ignored it. He kept whispering, “Baby, I won’t hurt you. Just let me love you. Relax…it’s okay, you’re with me. Gaia, I’ve been so worried about you!”She growled repeatedly, but he ignored that, too, sensing her softening beneath him. Was she giving in because he wasn’t letting her up? She wasn’t fighting any more.When he realized how he had hold of her, he forced himself to relax his grip. His fingers loosed their hold on her wrists—how he’d pinned those above her, he didn’t even remember. He didn’t care. What he cared about was that she’d come to him—however she’d done it. He didn’t even care how that had happened. Sandy was back, and all he could do was make love to her. But her shock and docility and stiffening didn’t last very long. The minute he eased his grip, she rolled him to his back and angrily screamed, “Do you know what happened to me?” “Yes, baby, but it’s gonna be okay.” “No! It’s not!” She sat up, straddling him, and pounded him a couple times on his chest. “I’m pregnant!” And then she started crying, and rolled her back to lay her head on his chest. Brandon could do nothing but wrap his arms around her. She was pregnant? From the rape? Gaia, was there any end to the pain of Raven’s Mischief? All the joy that she’d come to him was swept away in the anguish of that. He rubbed and patted her back, and dropped kisses on her head. When he found his voice, all he could do was mutter, “It’ll be okay, Sand. It’ll be okay.” “No. It won’t.” She thumped him again. “Sh.” Was he hallucinating? She wasn’t really in his shack, was she? Had he fallen asleep? Was this his best dream turned into his worst nightmare? Brandon whispered, “If this was a dream, we’d be making love. You wouldn’t be crying.” He received another punch for that. Her anger was the thing that forced him to believe it was all real. It filled the cabin, and the scent of her was unmistakable. No matter how many times he blinked, the whole thing didn’t disappear. “How…how did you get here?” “Oh, I don’t know! The flask vibrated and,” she sniffed, lifting her head, “And I drank because I was tired of hurting.” Lamely, he asked, “Why were you hurting?” She got right down in his face and screamed, “How could you forget?!” “I didn’t. I didn’t.” Sandy wasn’t listening. She scooted back, and undid his pants and looked down at his bulging manhood…with such fury on her face that it seemed confusing, in contradiction with her actions. She took a hard grip on it. He had no control over it. She aroused him. He couldn’t help it. But, at that moment, he felt ashamed of his physical response. She squeezed—which didn’t lessen his ardor. It did nothing but arouse him further. “Don’t,” he said, forcing himself to shift back to his human form. He didn’t mind the firm hold. What bothered him was her expression, the anger. “I’m not the one you’re angry at.” Controlling a shape-shift beneath her was a major effort, but he’d be damned if he let himself go. They’d end up rutting like uncontrollable dogs, and she’d hate him all the more. He had to keep his brain on a civilized keel. “Stop!” The minute she realized he was morphing, she pummeled him again. He didn’t care. He was not like the animals that had gotten hold of her. And he couldn’t let the instincts that ruled in that form take him over. Brandon grabbed hold of her wrists. “Baby…just shift. We’ll talk about it like reasonable—” “I don’t want to be reasonable! I want to scream and bite and….” “And what?” She tried to jerk out of his grasp but he didn’t let go. He saw it in her eyes. He felt it in the stiffness of her body. “Show me how much you hate men?” “Yes!” When she yanked her arms the next time, he let them go. “Okay.” If she needed someone to let her anger out on, it could be him. He wanted to cry for her. He wanted to do something to help. And short of starting war by killing Miff’s guardians, this was probably all he could do. He’d reported the incident but his father and the Shaman, who had been his only audience, had decided to keep it to themselves. They didn’t seem surprised. And he had left them with the distinct feeling that, maybe, Raven’s Mischief was behind it all—and perhaps Amaguq and the old wise man were stirring things a-purpose, inviting Raven’s hand. There was no secret that Amaguq and Miff went way back as enemies. A grudge over twenty years or more. But what that was, no one seemed to know. Never before had he questioned the alpha who ruled his pack, but, as he’d left, he got angry. Was he a pawn in their game? Nothing more than a beta worth losing? And making fun of behind his back? That thought had returned many times since his confession about the night Sandy had been raped—that he had, indeed, succored their enemy, and crossed the territorial lines, starting a fight. It was odd that there were no repercussions. Just him waiting for it to come. The worst type of anticipation. Surely, some day soon his punishment would be revealed. Was this it? This painful experience with Sandy—more of Raven’s Mischief? They had both partaken from the flasks again. Was this his penance for choosing to do it? Her angry grip on his cock had him closing his eyes. He didn’t want to answer her anger with more of the same. He didn’t want Raven’s Mischief to rule their relationship, such as it was. But…if that’s what she needed to work through what had happened, he was a willing man. Maybe it would make his guilt over the night go away. “Gaia, Sand.” He took a deep breath and let it go. “You could come to me every night, angry, and I would willingly take whatever you gave me.” In his head, he prayed to Gaia for patience and the strength to endure. For that, he got his cock twisted. “Like this?” Was he a sadist, and she a masochist? Because…the answer was yes. He surrendered his will to hers. Brandon nodded. “Ah!” Disgusted, she slid downward. “And this?” He opened his eyes when she took hold of his shaft again, her fangs pending over the top. She wouldn’t bite him, would she? She could, as angry as she was, bite his head off quite literally. But then he’d bleed to death and be at the end of his torture. “Give it your worst,” he said. So, she bit him. But, she didn’t separate any piece of him from another, except maybe his heart. What had he done to deserve this? “Gaia,” he said, his cock hurting. “Shift. You’ll fucking heal better.” Had he said something like that to her? “I’ll bite you again.” “Why?” “Because I’m angry and I want you angry and—” “And what good will that do?” “Together, I think we can take those bastards.” Ah. That was it. Raven’s Mischief extended to murder, ambush. While part of him wanted nothing more than to confront Miff’s guardians, he didn’t want to do it with her possibly in danger. He had to admit to himself that he thought, in her present mood, she might just be right about the two of them taking the others. But, he had to ask, “When did you find out?” “What?” “That you’re pregnant.” “You mean…when did I start puking my brains out? That night, don’t you remember?” She frowned. “Or when did the clawing in my belly start?” Brandon hadn’t thought of that. Was that what she was going through? She had conceived in crinos. There was no mercy for that. The babes would be born monsters, and likely put down. “You want…” He hated to suggest it, because he loved life, and had never considered the possibility before. “You want me to take you to Anchorage…for an abortion?”

Author's note: I am anti-abortion, generally. One of those--your choice is conception or contraception sort of people. However, rape is the one time that I say...a woman has to do what she needs to survive the ordeal. While I would prefer adoption over abortion every time, in this case, I think I can see my way to letting an abortion happen. THEY'RE GONNA BE MONSTERS. ;)

And for the record, I have had many friends who had abortions and then told me after the fact. You'd be surprised at how many find that I'm the one most sympathetic after the death of their baby. I am no judge. What I care about is people surviving life and its worst experiences with a little joy. I am big on working past things, especially guilt. The past is over. I want desperately to move on, and look forward. (Easier said than done--says the dog who is always chewing on an old bone.)

Raven's Mischief is a therapeutic book that really works through anger, and the concept of letting the bad things go. There is a strong sense of a need for revenge, and a surprise on how that comes about...without making things worse for Sandy and Brandon. And it does have a Happily Ever After ending--which in the publishing world is referred to as HEA.

If you see HFN, that means Happy For Now. That, too, should give you a good feeling at the end of the book...but maybe a boding for the sequel. (See Chaos had a HFN ending which did not bode well for the couple when it slid into Leader of the Pack.)

However, if I put those books back out, I may rewrite them and surprise you with new endings, and kill off other people in Leader...or something. I'll let ya know if I rewrite enough to give you more. I have a growing urge to give some HFN books of previous relationships some of those very cool alphas had. I mean, geez, who couldn't like reading about Jack some more?

1 Comments:

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Sequels

Yesterday, I started the sequel to Raven's Mischief--I think I said that yesterday. It's coming along and will feel a little like my Pack City and Jack: In the Pack stories where you will get a whole different angle on the story.

You guys are so gonna like Maya and Trevyn--who are the key players in this new story. You'll fall in love with them in RM and then simply have to see what happens next...and in the meantime you'll be falling in love with Laney and Kieran who are gonna be the stars of the third book.

Oh, hey...I already got an acceptance/contract for RM from Mojocastle. So, that should be coming out in ebook this year. WOOHOO! And the contract says that if I sell 200 copies in e-format that it will be considered for print. I SO want to see my things in hard copy.

They emailed me the contract and then I have to print and sign it and get it in the mail today. I also have to fill out what are called AIF's. Author Information Form. Those get all my info plus all the details on the book, like what I'd like to see for the cover, etc.

I have to get on that this morning. I am soooo excited. I can't wait to announce this sale to my writer's groups. I was feeling sad that all my CW titles were pulled and I had nothing going there.

I also got an assurance from a publisher yesterday that if Kensington doesn't take all my other titles that I had with Extasy, this other pub will take every one.

I actually have TWO publishers that are jonesing to put those out for me. So, you WILL see more of Leer, Jack, and Hood...and you gotta read the stories of Bark and Letha (Pack Taboo), and Mark and Amber (Pack Attack)--in that one, Hood and Giselle get married. I'm feeling excited about all my CW things coming out again, even though I haven't signed contracts on them yet.

One editor said she'd turn my ms's around so fast that my head will spin--that's how fast they'll be out. And with new covers...which are always fun to see.

Okay. Some are just funny to laugh at.I think I'll go get busy now. I have a lunch date with tarot reading friend, Maiden of Mysteries on Keen.com--and I can't wait to tell her my great news.

Isn't it wonderful to share good news with friends who will hug you and cheer for you?(We don't get to do that often enough, imo.)

I say...let's all make goals for the new year to do something that we can be cheered for, and to look for things our friends do that we can cheer them on for! K? How many are with me on this?

Oh. Wait. Did I promise you a sexcerpt or something?That'll have to be tomorrow. Tune in. See what's up. (pun intended!)

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Finished that book

I finished Raven's Mischief at a whopping 108,000+ words last night around ten o'clock. (The first book in my new werewolf series that I hope Mojocastle will be publishing.)

I'm now working on the prologue for the sequel: Shadow Walking Witch. I think a sequel is tricky because you have to figure out a way to relay enough of what has happened to the characters in the previous book--that set you up for the new one--but the whole thing has to stand alone.

I gotta ask...what's the point in reading a sequel if you don't feel like it is a continuation of the previous book?

I don't know about you but I get totally annoyed with an author/series if:

a) I can't figure out what's going on in the sequel because there isn't enough set-up--because sometimes I miss a first book in a series--but I try really hard not to do that any more because I find that I'm usually too lost, but it shouldn't be like that!

b) I get annoyed if the second book doesn't answer questions or loose ends left untied in the first book.

c) Oh yeah, and the big one...if I don't feel good at the end of the first book! Or the second one, and EVERY book in the series.

Anyhow, I'm working on this prologue--which will take longer than writing the rest of the book probably.

I know I've been talking about Raven's Mischief a lot--because these people are in my heads and I love their story at the moment...else I wouldn't be writing it. The thing that is coolest about it, imo, is that there are three sisters and a hanful of men spinning around them. Although you might be able to guess who SHOULD be with whom when the dust settles, they have a lot of questions and turn around between them.

Step into a world where arranged marriages are accepted by people who can rip throats out. This series is very different from my other one because the women in this series have been "held down" (hehe) a lot more than those in the Wanton Werewolf series.

Man, I hope that series gets re-released soon. I really, really want you to read Pack Taboo. That one, you will love. Maybe I'll post a sexcerpt from that tomorrow. Sound good?

1 Comments:

You amaze me. lol. I wish I could get that much written in such a short time. I've got to switch it into some kind of gear, though. There's going to be an editor from Tor at the OWFI conference in May and then it would probably help to have at lease some kind of idea of what project(s) I want to work on when I go to Eureka Springs in June.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

The day after

Smoke has cleared and...

No, really. My daughter dropped the beautiful peach pie in the oven as she was taking it out. Damn thing took a nose dive like it was climbing out of her hands on purpose. I watched the whole thing in slow motion.

We scooped it up and put it back in its pan. But no one wanted any. Go figure.

See, in my oven, my house, no one would have suggested we scoop it up and see if someone wanted any. My oven never gets cleaned.

Which is why it is SO great Miranda has a house.

She was the only one that cleaned my oven for years--because she's the sort of daughter that hated manual labor...and when she got in trouble, that was her chore to get out of grounding. Fridge and oven, she was the queen.

My oldest said, "Spank me now but don't take away my phone." Which meant, of course, no phone for her.

My second daughter said, "I'll clean the bathroom." And I couldn't fault her logic--so she actually got out pretty light.

And the two kids at home learned from the others. They almost never do anything bad. So, they have to clean the fridge or floor or do laundry to buy their way out of the house.

Since the son never cares to go anywhere...we have four baskets of laundry waiting. I'm sure my daughter will want to go somewhere today or tomorrow. (God please let her make a plan! LOL)

We had ham for Christmas. Ham. Ham. Ham. I don't do a lot of ham during the year. Deli meat sandwiches sometimes.

I'm rambling with nothing great to report, so I guess I'll go and write.

Oh, wait. You'll love this (or wanna cry for me.) I didn't have the money to do a $90 dye job on my hair so I went and bought some bottles for home. Only the gray streak on the top of my head turned into a red streak--not the desired brown that would have blended nicely with the growing out professional color I had.

So, I spent all day Christmas day sad over my stupid hair. My girls were sweet. Said they didn't notice. HAHAHA. I guess they could tell I wanted to cry over it. They hugged me and said "It was just family around anyway."

At MIDNIGHT we went to Walgreen's to buy hair dye--and it's on my head now. I'm afraid my hair will look splotchy because I have SO much hair now.

So, if you go the cheap route on your hair--Carys Weldon does too. If you've ever had a stripe on the top of your hair, I feel for you. And if you ever had splotchy hair dye job, I'm with ya babe.

The question is...how much does this hair matter? It's ruined my holiday and this morning too.What do you do to get over bad hair days?

2 Comments:

Eat something chocolate. Preferably dark chocolate. I can't be mad or in any kind of bad mood with the bite/sharpness/whatever that dark chocolate has in it. It's like an immediate "Mmmmm"-temporary melting moment. lol.

It doesn't always carry over, of course, but it does help temporarily. :)

Monday, December 25, 2006

Merry Christmas (Recipes and deals)

Merry Christmas everybody!

We've opened presents. My kids were most happy with their 4gb mp3 players. I bought them on ebay for about $40-45, and they are an off brand, but they are equivalent to the $250 ones at Circuit City. And they play real well. I just thought I'd tell you about those in case you're looking to get something like that. I bought these from a seller named Blown-z.

Anyhow, it's good to get a great deal and to have a nice Christmas on a low budget. Ya know?

We'll be going to my married daughter's house, like we did for Thanksgiving. Of course, I think I bought most of the food that will be there, but she'll fix a lot of it, and clean up afterwards--so that works for me.

I made two pumpkin pies, two cheesecake (pies), an apple crumb pie and a chocolate cream pie. And I made some Parker House Roll dough and sent that up to her house last night--hoping she'd roll them out and bake them. But I may have to do that when I get there.

Do you make homemade rolls or pies?

We're doing a ham. We sprinkle it with knox plain gelatin, brown sugar and ground cloves, then pour honey over it--or maybe the honey comes first. Anyhow, it makes a very tasty glazy outside.

Makes my tongue water just thinking about that spiral sliced ham.And my daughters are insisting on that green bean casserole thing again.My husband keeps asking, "Why the hell can't we have some regular green beans--fried in butter with salt and pepper?"

Answer: Because we do that all year round. I only give in to the casserole thing on the holidays.

I know, some of you like that. I don't mind it. But...

Anyhow, gotta get going. Merry Christmas.Tell me if you get anything good.

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Undead and Unwed

I want you to know that I read every comment posted on this blog.

Jen mentioned Undead and Unwed by Mary Janice Davidson--I've read that. It was recommended to me by a bookstore owner friend. It is funny and a quick read, but I get annoyed with it because it doesn't go where I want romance to go--and since it's in the romance section, there are certain things I expect.

Like the hero and heroine to get it together in a way that satisfies me. I like sexual tension. I like things to feel like the characters in the book are dealing with brain waves like I would. You know, normal worries and insecurities and frustrations (even if they are werewolves or whatever.)

What sort of things do you expect out of a romance?

The one thing that I worry about some of my romances is that I take you away from the couple sometimes, to show you the world around them. Where a Harlequin (for example) has basically those two people on the page all the time, I occasionally take you away from one of them because...I want you to feel his or her frustration for not being with the other person. You can't feel that if they are always together. Besides, real life cuts in and takes us away from the people we want to be with, so it feels more authentic to me.

But, I wonder if readers hate that.I always wonder what you really want to see.So, tell me a few things, if you would.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Writing question

Jen asked in a comment "How long have you been working on the book that's up to 86k words?"

I wrote 90+ pages in a day back in October--which is real close to 25,000 words. I did the rest in the last couple weeks (December), between a whole lot of ebay and life events. The biggest problem I have in leaving it so long is that I have to go all the way back through the beginning to remind myself of everything I've done, editing as I go. And then, if I let it sit for a week, I have to go through it again--because I can't be sure the things in my head have already happened or are things I am planning to have happen.

So, the re-editing process is the worst when you let it sit. And oftentimes I'll change something, add it in, only to find that it is already in there--just two or three sentences later. The more I let something sit, the more work the piece becomes. And I believe that editing too much before the story is actually completely written steals the pacing. Although, this book I'm working on has way too much inner dialogue. Too much of people trying to figure out what they should do, and what other people want them to do. (I think, anyway.)

But I put more of that in this book because the last editor I worked with said she felt that I didn't do enough of that. So, overboard queen that I am, I have stuffed the pages. There is no question that my main characters all have wishy washy "should I do this or not" feelings. They are all struggling with, "Should I please myself or the world in general? Should I do what's right, or what's right for me?"

In between all that dilemma writing, I've written many many poems and a bunch of short stories to flesh out a couple anthologies (one poetry, one mystery) that are sold already. Both of those should come out in print this next year, so I'm excited about those.

I WILL announce it here and in my newsletter. I'm counting down the days to doing another drawing. Are you?

1 Comments:

Hey, my friend! Wandered over here to say hello; and, while I'm at it, I'll add an "amen" to what you said about letting a story sit too long before finishing it. I've written entire scenes before I realized, "Duh! We've been over this territory already, three chapters ago!" On the other hand, being forced to go back and re-read my work can be encouraging. If I am in a funk and think I shouldn't waste any more time trying to write, sometimes looking at the manuscript with fresh eyes can help me see that, "Ya know, that is pretty darn good writing!"

0 Comments:

Friday, December 22, 2006

montage

I have several things to mention...Today is my baby girl's 18th birthday--so we'll be going (aaaaggghhh) to the mall.Andshe's chosen her birthday dinner to be at this mexican restaurant called Los Portales. That bill will be $50 or more...if we can get out of taking our other kids. They make great fajitas, chimichangas, tamales and flan--imo. I'm not real adventurous in mexican restaurants that are old world. I'm not really into rice or potatoes. I just like meat and cheese, sour cream and guacamole.

Hm. Can you tell I haven't had breakfast? Not having it. Saving myself for the big birthday meal. I'm pretty sure that tradition of eating out on big events is not a good one for our mentality. What celebration do we ever have that doesn't have food? None. We're already talking about Christmas dinner. Are you?

***I have that novel I'm working on up over 86 thousand words. So, it's almost finished. That's the one I posted an excerpt of the other day. I'm pretty sure it will be called Raven's Mischief. It is a great drama, I think...and tricky because there are three girls and some obvious alpha types, and a whole lot of confusion of who is supposed to end up with whom. I like a little unpredictability and a whole lot of sexual frustration and tension, ya know.

It's the one I said deals with a girl (the oldest sister, Sandy/Sand) that suffers rape. I want to say...I would never write a book that doesn't help the woman, and reader, work through the anger of something like that. I believe THE BEST books should trigger all sorts of emotions and make you say, "Oh, she better SOOOOO get some revenge or something good when this is over." And then get it. If a book doesn't satisfy when it's all over...I throw it at the wall and scream, "I'm not reading your crap any more!!"

Okay. The screaming is usually in my head. But I make sure and tell my friends, "Don't bother with this writer's blecky blah blah blah."

The book is a lot about how we deal with things. So many bad things are swept under the rug. Some people wanna talk about it, and move through it that way. In this book, you can see the people around her struggling with their own reactions. Her father, an old grizzled werewolf alpha tells her to toughen up, and not show her weaknesses. For the first half of the book, she is furious at him because it seems like he isn't doing anything to get her revenge, and he doesn't appear sympathetic.

But, imagine a father who is supposed to be the leader of his pack...and his own guardians rape his daughter. Although you don't "feel" the man's pov, as the story unfolds, you'll see that he makes the plans to bring in men to fix the problem--searches the world over to find someone who can make his daughter's world right again. I think we're all frustrated in our own ways, and his detachment is the way he deals. Don't you know someone like that? Men aren't supposed to cry, ya know, or show that they're weak. Right?

Anyhow, Sand gets angrier and angrier, and hates men...which makes her hero Brandon all the more lovable because he puts up with a whole lot of crap--and shouldn't all men just...do that? Help us work through things?

You will love him from the minute he steps on the page, I think. And it's not all dark and drama. She's got two sisters who are trying to love her back to a happy place. They interact with some good back and forth jibes and outrage that makes me smile.

And then I bring in the two men they are supposed to hook up with...which is, um, well...men to die for. The heroes their father had to look the world over for. But they have a few issues of their own.

What do you do when your soul mate denies he should be with you and says politics are more important? Maya (Sandy's little sister) is fantastic. She's short, and spunky, and gonna make Trevyn sooooo sorry--by climbing all over his brother.

Poor Laney (the middle sister) is caught in the middle of it all. She took one look at a picture of Kieran and falls head over heels. But it is obvious her father, and Trevyn, think she should marry Trev. Since Kier seems to be, um, not resisting Maya's attentions...

It is a terrible tangle of...how the hell are they gonna make this right? It's a whole lot of he's kissing her, and somebody else sees it, and everybody's getting intense.

And Kier and Trev are sooooo gonna take those guardians out. I'm telling you, if you're looking for heroes and surprising endings, you'll have to hook into this series.

***Oh, yeah. And the last thing...Christmas is coming...as you know. Counting down. Three days of shopping left. When I was a kid, we never shopped on Christmas Eve. That was a holiday too.

Sigh. My Christmas spirit is lagging. We haven't even put up a tree. Surely, we'll find one today. I haven't wrapped a present yet, either. Or bought very many. I just HATE shopping in the crowds.

Throw up a prayer or meditation or whatever you do. Help me get into the mood of the season, would ya?

3 Comments:

Oh yeah, we're definitely already talking about Christmas dinner. My oldest neice has to be with her dad Christmas eve and Christmas Day, as does my step-nephew (that just doesn't sound right) with his mother, so we're having a Christmas dinner for them tonight. We're going to go out for Italian and then open gifts to and from them. Then the rest of the family will be together on Christmas Day, but I don't know what we'll be doing then. And that's not to mention my Grandma's get-together, which is the Saturday after Christmas. *s*

-------

You're already up to 86k words?? How long have you been working on that? That's just amazing! I have honestly never completed anything to that length. I don't know why. I get it figured out to that point, just don't get the actual writing done.

I know what you mean about books that end up being wall-bangers. I hate 'em! Undead and Unwed by Mary Janice Davidson hit the wall several times. Vampires and chick lit don't combine very well there. I'm sure someone can do it well, but, IMO, she can't. One day I almost bought a vampire novella anthology but when I saw she was one of the authors, it went back on the shelf like it was a hot potato.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Another joke

Seen this joke?

Two ladies talking in heaven:

1st woman: Hi! My name is Wanda. 2nd woman: Hi! I'm Sylvia. How'd you die? 1st woman: I froze to death. 2nd woman: How horrible! 1st woman: It wasn't so bad. After I quit shaking from the cold, I began to get warm & sleepy, and finally die d a peaceful death. What about you? 2nd woman: I died of a massive heart attack. I suspected that my husband was cheating, so I came home early to catch him in the act. But instead, I found him all by himself in the den watching TV. 1st woman: So, what happened? 2nd woman: I was so sure there was another woman there somewhere that I started running all over the house looking. I ran up into the attic and searched, and down into the basement. Then I went through every closet and checked under all the beds. I kept this up until I had looked everywhere, and finally I became so exhausted that I just keeled over with a heart attack and died. 1st woman: Too bad you didn't look in the freezer---we'd both still be alive.

1 Comments:

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Sexcerpt

So, hey...I promised you a sexcerpt and you're gonna get one. I'm thinking this will be like none that you've ever read before--but you might have dreamed about something like this.

The set-up...Sandy (aka Sand) is this big, beautiful bitch (garou/werewolf woman)who got raped one night. (Yeah, this book goes to an ugly place but even rape victims will think its therapeutic, I think.)

Brandon, the fucking huge guardian of the eastern pass (hero/garou/really great guy/in the pack of her father's worst enemy) gets a visit one night from the Shaman of his tribe. The crazy old indian gives him two silver flasks and a riddle--which sounds insane.

Brandon and Sandy are good garou. They pray to Gaia, the Great Mother, the good and generous god. (Which means they don't deserve bad crap, right?)

The silver flasks, the indian says, comes from Raven--who is called the spirit of mischief. All roads of pain, disease and misfortune come from Raven. (So, any gift from him is an omen for really bad crap, right?)

The riddle is...before dawn, Brandon will have to choose...to succor his enemy (which Brandon, a super loyal guardian for his pack would NEVER do)...or let someone die.

Well, the choice for Brandon seems too easy. His friggin' enemy can die. But the Shaman says, "One choice will please both Gaia and Raven, and the other, well, will give him a long road of heartache." So, now Gaia's in on this. Brandon definitely doesn't wanna displease her.

The night drags while he stares at the flasks. Finally, he decides he should go out and bury them. He doesn't want anything to do with Raven's Mischief (which is probably gonna be the name of the book, btw.)

But, before he can get to that, he decides to go to Gaia's altar and see if she'll just take the flasks. Her altar is known for disappearing gifts. She doesn't. But, while he's begging her for that, he throws in a "Hey, point me to a woman that would have me, would you?" Because he's a guardian in a line shack and a little bit lonely.

Okay, sorry for writing a whole book, but I want you to see what's going on here. So, it turns out that Sandy is out running (there's a stupid story) and her own father's guardians are chasing her...they pounce her and ick, rape her--which is a fade to black scene--but Brandon hears her screams.

Now, they've got a treaty that says the guardians are not to trespass. Before the rape begins, Brandon hears them coming, and knows that Miff's guardians (Miff is Sandy's father)are chasing something right toward him. The flask vibrate and he knows the challenge the Shaman said would come is upon him. He waits, praying to Gaia that the choice will be taken from him, that he will be strong and do the right thing, and not bind himself in Raven's Mischief--which always has a penalty.

But then he hears her scream. Without thinking, he goes to her aid...over the territorial boundary line. He runs the creeps off. (Geez, I'm telling you the whole story, but I swear--YOU GOTTA READ IT.)

Anyhow, he circles back to her, and thinks she's dead, but she's not--because that would be a totally shitty end to the book, right?

He knows that she'll freeze to death before he can get her safe if he doesn't give her some of Raven's Mischief--so he makes the choice to drink/serve her from the flasks.

Then there's this great scene where the hero carries her to his place and washes her and is so gentle that you gotta love him and wish your man was like that to you.

A month passes, and, whew, we're getting to the excerpt finally. Every night, every day, he carries his stupid flask, thinking that he should drink from it again--because he's worried about her, missing her--and that's the only thing that binds them. (And he gave her the second one.) So, it turns out that drinking from his makes hers vibrate, and vice versa.

Drinking from his calls her to him, and when she drinks, too, the time/space continuum warps and she appears wherever he is. Okay, so...she's been raped and that makes her one fucking angry bitch.

She DOES work through that during the book. And he works through the guilt of waiting...if he'd only come sooner, he might have prevented her attack. Ya know?

So, this scene is the first time they're together after that really bad night. Be sure and tell me what you think. Taking a book to a rape is a touchy thing--I know--but I wanted to give women a "work through it, go ahead and get your anger out" sort of book.

Oh, one other thing...if a werewolf person shifts into their crinos form, they heal quicker, and the night of the rape, he told her to shift so she'd heal better, but she couldn't--she was so emotionally drained. (That'll explain something she says in this scene.) Man, I hope you enjoy it now that I wrote the whole book. ;)

Anyhow...here ya go:

And then, one night, late—near the time that he’d saved her life, he decided to try it again. Just a sip…to chase the whiskey he’d been drinking. But, then, after he took a sip, he thought, “I need a real drink.” The next swig warmed him all the way through and the one after that blurred his vision. That was about the time he noticed the flask vibrating. Seconds later, the interior of the cabin distorted. Something furry leaped through some miracle, the distortion of time and space, knocking him from the chair. Pouncing him with unerring accuracy. A werewolf! A crinos female with claws that slashed through his clothing, scraping into his chest. She took him so much by surprise that he could do nothing but hold her at arm’s length—the second he realized she was going for his jugular. That made him angry. He crinosed and rolled her, pinning her beneath him, asking, “You like that, bitch? I’ve got—” He was going to say fangs and claws, too, but suddenly he recognized her by scent. Instantly, his whole demeanor changed. “Baby, baby…how did you get here?” Before she could react, he started kissing her. A hundred little baby kisses all over her face. And licks. A thousand tender ministrations from a wolf man in love. In terrible, horrid, desperate love. At first, she dodged his lips and tongue, her whole body tense, anger at being held down so intense that she sweated the endorphins from her pores, but he ignored it. He kept whispering, “Baby, I won’t hurt you. Just let me love you. Relax…it’s okay, you’re with me. Gaia, I’ve been so worried about you!” She growled repeatedly, but he ignored that, too, sensing her softening beneath him. Was she giving in because he wasn’t letting her up? She wasn’t fighting any more. When he realized how he had hold of her, he forced himself to relax his grip. His fingers loosed their hold on her wrists—how he’d pinned those above her, he didn’t even remember. He didn’t care. What he cared about was that she’d come to him—however she’d done it. He didn’t even care how that had happened. Sandy was back, and all he could do was make love to her. But her shock and docility and stiffening didn’t last very long. The minute he eased his grip, she rolled him to his back and angrily screamed, “Do you know what happened to me?” “Yes, baby, but it’s gonna be okay.” “No! It’s not!” She sat up, straddling him, and pounded him a couple times on his chest. “I’m pregnant!” And then she started crying, and rolled her back to lay her head on his chest. Brandon could do nothing but wrap his arms around her. She was pregnant? From the rape? Gaia, was there any end to the pain of Raven’s Mischief? All the joy that she’d come to him was swept away in the anguish of that. He rubbed and patted her back, and dropped kisses on her head. When he found his voice, all he could do was mutter, “It’ll be okay, Sand. It’ll be okay.” “No. It won’t.” She thumped him again. “Sh.” Was he hallucinating? She wasn’t really in his shack, was she? Had he fallen asleep? Was this his best dream turned into his worst nightmare? Brandon whispered, “If this was a dream, we’d be making love. You wouldn’t be crying.” He received another punch for that. Her anger was the thing that forced him to believe it was all real. It filled the cabin, and the scent of her was unmistakable. No matter how many times he blinked, the whole thing didn’t disappear. “How…how did you get here?” “Oh, I don’t know! The flask vibrated and,” she sniffed, lifting her head, “And I drank because I was tired of hurting.” Lamely, he asked, “Why were you hurting?” She got right down in his face and screamed, “How could you forget?!” “I didn’t. I didn’t.” Sandy wasn’t listening. She scooted back, and undid his pants and looked down at his bulging manhood…with such fury on her face that it seemed confusing, in contradiction with her actions. She took a hard grip on it. He had no control over it. She aroused him. He couldn’t help it. But, at that moment, he felt ashamed of his physical response. She squeezed—which didn’t lessen his ardor. It did nothing but arouse him further. “Don’t,” he said, forcing himself to shift back to his human form. He didn’t mind the firm hold. What bothered him was her expression, the anger. “I’m not the one you’re angry at.” Controlling a shape-shift beneath her was a major effort, but he’d be damned if he let himself go. They’d end up rutting like uncontrollable dogs, and she’d hate him all the more. He had to keep his brain on a civilized keel. “Stop!” The minute she realized he was morphing, she pummeled him again. He didn’t care. He was not like the animals that had gotten hold of her. And he couldn’t let the instincts that ruled in that form take him over. Brandon grabbed hold of her wrists. “Baby…just shift. We’ll talk about it like reasonable—” “I don’t want to be reasonable! I want to scream and bite and….” “And what?” She tried to jerk out of his grasp but he didn’t let go. He saw it in her eyes. He felt it in the stiffness of her body. “Show me how much you hate men?” “Yes!” When she yanked her arms the next time, he let them go. “Okay.” If she needed someone to let her anger out on, it could be him. He wanted to cry for her. He wanted to do something to help. And short of starting war by killing Miff’s guardians, this was probably all he could do. He’d reported the incident but Amaguq and the Shaman, who had been his only audience, had decided to keep it to themselves. They didn’t seem surprised. And he had left them with the distinct feeling that, maybe, Raven’s Mischief was behind it all—and perhaps Amaguq and the old wise man were stirring things a-purpose, inviting Raven’s hand. There was no secret that Amaguq and Miff went way back as enemies. A grudge over twenty years or more. But what that was, no one seemed to know. Never before had he questioned the alpha who ruled his pack, but, as he’d left, he got angry. Was he a pawn in their game? Nothing more than a beta worth losing? And making fun of behind his back? That thought had returned many times since his confession about the night Sandy had been raped—that he had, indeed, succored their enemy, and crossed the territorial lines, starting a fight. It was odd that there were no repercussions. Just him waiting for it to come. The worst type of anticipation. Surely, some day soon his punishment would be revealed. Was this it? This painful experience with Sandy—more of Raven’s Mischief? They had both partaken from the flasks again. Was this his penance for choosing to do it? Her angry grip on his cock had him closing his eyes. He didn’t want to answer her anger with more of the same. He didn’t want Raven’s Mischief to rule their relationship, such as it was. But…if that’s what she needed to work through what had happened, he was a willing man. Maybe it would make his guilt over the night go away. “Gaia, Sand.” He took a deep breath and let it go. “You could come to me every night, angry, and I would willingly take whatever you gave me.” In his head, he prayed to Gaia for patience and the strength to endure. For that, he got his cock twisted. “Like this?” Was he a sadist, and she a masochist? Because…the answer was yes. He surrendered his will to hers. Brandon nodded. “Ah!” Disgusted, she slid downward. “And this?” He opened his eyes when she took hold of his shaft again, her fangs pending over the top. She wouldn’t bite him, would she? She could, as angry as she was, bite his head off quite literally. But then he’d bleed to death and be at the end of his torture. “Give it your worst,” he said. So, she bit him. But, she didn’t separate any piece of him from another, except maybe his heart. What had he done to deserve this? “Gaia,” he said, his cock hurting. “Shift. You’ll fucking heal better.” Had he said something like that to her? “I’ll bite you again.” “Why?” “Because I’m angry and I want you angry and—” “And what good will that do?” “Together, I think we can take those bastards.” Ah. That was it. Raven’s Mischief extended to murder...

***Okay, so...the worst has happened. Not only has she been raped by crinos monsters--her father's own guardians, the men who are supposed to keep her safe, but she's pregnant from it. Babies/pups conceived in crinos are monsters. So, it gets worse before it gets better.

I think this story is so powerful because it deals with a lot of bad things. Rape--what to do after the conception--abortion, miscarriage, whatever--and Sandy is so angry. Who hasn't been so pissed at a man/men that they didn't want to rip him to shreds or bite the head of his cock off--and shove it down his throat?

If you check this book out (when it gets out), I think you'll find it therapeutic to many of your issues as a woman. But what do I know?

It's an emotional read that deals with addiction, painful choices, self-esteem--and ultimately has a really good ending...which, I hope, I'll be finishing up today. YAY.

Now, tell me...do you steer away from books that deal with rape, or not?

2 Comments:

OK, lets see if this lets me comment this time.

I don't necessarily avoid books that mention/discuss/deal with rape issues. I don't have very many of them, though. I think if it pertains to the story at hand and is a necessary element -- which it sounds like this is -- it's fine.

I don't necessarily avoid those books. But would hate to read one that wasn't resolved to my satisfaction. If it wouldn't give too much away way was her guardians raping her anyways. This sounds like an emotional book. And with those types of books I have to be in the mood to read something that heavy.

1 Comments:

A family is at the dinner table. The son asks his father, "Dad, how many kinds of boobs are there? The father, surprised, answers, "Well, son, there are three kinds of breasts. In her 20s, a woman's breasts are like melons, round and firm. In her 30s to 40s, they are like pears, still nice but hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions". "Onions?"

"Yes, you see them and they make you cry." This infuriated his wife and daughter so the daughter said, "Mum, how many kinds of 'willies' are there?" The mother, surprised, smiles and answers, "Well dear, a man goes through three phases. In his 20s, his willy is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it is like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it is like a Christmas tree". "A Christmas tree?" "Yes -dead from the root up and the balls are just for decoration."

Wages of sin

An Irish daughter had not been home for over 5 years.

Upon her return her father cursed her. "Where have ye been all this time?

"Ye what!!? Out of here, ye shameless harlot! Sinner! You're a disgrace to this family."

"OK, dad, as ye wish. I just came back to say a Merry Christmas to ye and give mum

this luxurious fur coat, title deed to a ten bedroom mansion plus a $5 million savings certificate.

For me little brother, this gold Rolex and for ye daddy,

the sparkling new Mercedes limited edition convertible that'sparked outside plus a membership to the country club....(takes a breath)....and an invitation for yeall to spend New Years Eve on board my new yacht in the Riviera and...."

0 Comments:

Saturday, December 16, 2006

Last night, I watched the sit-com Scrubs. Have you seen it? It's funny, imo.(in my opinion)

On there, a doctor choked during surgery. His superior suggested (in a round about way using every term but THE word) that he masturbate before surgeries in the future so that he could relax.

That show is all over the unacceptable and taboo. It's a bunch of immature doctors and hospital workers, that may be brilliant as health care givers, but socially on a runaway train with a bad party going on--or something. (Yeah, I know. My metaphors stink. Feel free to toss a couple good ones on me--any time!--stay away from cliche, k?)

In itself, the moment was stunning because I don't think they'd gone there before. But what do I know? I just found the show this summer--and I guess it's had a many seasons run and is at an end or something. (I'm always behind the times.)

Anyhow, that aside...this morning I came across this BBC article that seems to be addressing a similar topic. Have sex before you speak. It says:

Sex 'cuts public speaking stress'

Forget learning lines or polishing jokes - having sex may be the best way to prepare for giving a speech.

You can read the rest of the article here:http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/4646010.stm

I just thought it was interesting that I see the show/episode last night and the first article I see online this morning is the other. Conclusion...? The great forces think we should do one or the other (or both) more before big events? Maybe?

Which brings me to a terrible question. (Geez, bringing up the religious angle again.) All my life, I've gone to church...where masturbation is taught as a sin, and where sex outside marriage is, too. Although there are a lot of people in the bible who have sex outside of marriage. And it is implied that people like Saul/Paul did both of the above and much, much more before his big switch over (which tells me God forgives some people for this, apparently--LOL--but he may strike you down first, eh?)

I wonder about all the things I've ever been taught. One one hand, my husband tells me that all religion was ever about is controlling the masses. If you are kept from doing things, or made to feel guilty and confess every little thing, they (powers that be) always know the worst of what you're up to.

On the other hand, I struggle with the statistics. If the urge to have sex (and/or masturbate) is so strong, why did God give it to us--so we would feel bad about it? So we could learn control over it/our physical urges? Is that possible? And who wants to control their urge to have sex, really?

Do you think masturbation or sex is wrong? Do you struggle with what you were taught as a child and what you've come to reason out on your own?

I found these statistics on women masturbating:

Next Time You Masturbate, Just Think...

*There are about 6 billion people on the planet, half are women = 3,000,000,000

*Five out of seven are of an age where they are likely to masturbate, or are at least able to = 2142857143

(I found those at Clitical.com, a site you might enjoy browsing.)http://www.clitical.com/female-masturbation/masturbation-statistics.php

On the same topic, I found a site about masturbation and myths that say that about 90% of all men masturbate.

There's a lot of sub-titled discussions and articles on the subject here:http://parentingteens.about.com/od/masterbation/Masturbation_Mutual_Masturbation_and_Masturbation_Myths.htm

I thought the section on myths was funny/interesting.

But, I got educated on more. I learned the term Mutual Masturbation. It says...

"Mutual masturbation is often termed the safest type of sex you can enjoy with a partner. Since it is self stimulation and the male never enters the female, no fluids are exchanged. This prevents pregnancy and STDS.

"Since Aids has been public, mutual masturbation has been taught in many sex education classes in high schools ~ remember, they teach what intercourse is also. They teach mutual masturbation as a choice, a form of abstaining from sexual intercourse."

You'll also find discussions on sex after menopause, and sex and teens.

Going here: http://www.new-life.net/mastrbte.htmI found a religious site about men and masturbation. It quotes a book written in Waco Texas, of all places, called The Sexual Man.

It says:"Psychologist Archibald Hart wrote a book entitled The Sexual Man (Waco, Texas: Word, 1994). His book contains surveys he conducted on the subject of masturbation. He surveyed married men who masturbate and asked them how they felt about their masturbation. Almost all of the married men who masturbated (97 percent) said they did not "feel guilty." Only 2% thought that it was "shameful."

You would think that would mean that 97-98% of these men would say that masturbation was "normal." But what was unusual was that Dr. Hart could only find 13% of the men who said they "felt normal about masturbation." That's odd. So what does this mean? Either these men genuinely don't know how they feel or they have a lot of confusion about their feelings. On the one hand, "97 percent said they don't feel guilty, but only 13 percent said it felt normal."

I think these results show that a rationalization has taken place in our society. In spite of what society, movies, books, and "sex experts" tell us -- in spite of what men say they believe -- most men still don't feel "right" about masturbation. Many of the married and unmarried men I have spoken with actually "agonize" over their practice of masturbation. Why? Is this God's viewpoint? Is it the persuasive power of uptight Christians making people feel guilt about their masturbation?"

I highly recommend the reading of the rest of the article. Skip down to the part about Masturbation and the bible. It is interesting to see this preacher saying that Masturbation is not a sin listed in the bible--but lusting after someone/an object like porn IS.

He warns that masturbation could become a compulsive act. (Duh.) And he also gives some discussion on overcoming it.

My favorite point that he makes is one that can be applied to dieting or patience with others, or just about anything else--

*Work on victory only one day [one hour, one minute, one second] at a time:

*Never think about getting victory for the rest of your life.

*Here is the way to think: "My roommates are all out of the apartment. Lord, just let me get through this one afternoon."

2 Comments:

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Movies and presents

Seen any good movies lately? Can you recommend any? (at theater or to rent or purchase?)

I don't watch a lot of televsion so I don't see many trailers, and can only go by recommendations. Are there any that you are getting for yourself or someone else for Christmas or think are must haves?

I am absolutely struggling with ideas for presents for men this year. It's to the point that if someone doesn't bail me out with a good idea, my husband and son in law aren't gonna get squat. I'm taking ALL suggestions aside from socks and clothes. My husband gets all that when he needs them.

And we get him a hammer, a wallet and a flashlight ever year pretty much so he's set on that. Any other (relatively cheap?) ideas?

I mean, I'd love to buy him that classic car he wants but...cashola isn't flowing that well.

I don't even know what I want for Christmas, how can I figure out what other people would like, if they don't tell me? Am I the only one having this dilemma?

What would you like for a present? Go ahead. Tell me a big thing (that shows you're still dreaming) and something small that you SHOULD be able to get. Maybe that will give me ideas on what I want or need. ;)

2 Comments:

I would love to have a laptop or an ipod. But got a new cookstove. Me and hubby went in halfs lol. Buy him a model car of the type that he wants. I did that for my dad the year he wanted a Harley. He said it wasn't big enough to put his ass on. I just laughed at him.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Other blogs

I occasionally surf other blogs...and I'm wholly impressed that some have pictures, videos, and other bells and whistles. (Love the Write Snark's blog!)

I love to go to many sites like that...but, until I got dsl, I hated them because it took forever to load, and then sometimes, after ten minutes, didn't load fully and I had to refresh--and some never would load. Which is very frustrating.

And since this is a sex and general life based blog, I think we have enough frustration already! So, if you wonder why I don't update my blog, or my newsletter to have more fancy stuff, that's it. I don't want anyone to waste time waiting for a fancy little whizzer to load--here or in their inbox. Is there anything more annoying that thinking...I'll just check my email to find that you can't just check it--because some picture loaded file is blocking all the rest. If they were always shuffled to the end of the downloads, it might not be so bad--but they aren't.

I do a lot of time juggling as it is and I don't have time for things to load, usually. So, forgive me for sticking with the simpler picture. Sometimes I do pine after the cooler graphics and set-ups, but that would take me becoming computer savvy beyond the on and off buttons...and I'd rather write than mess with figuring out how things really work.

Anyhow, with all that in mind, I do try to post links to blogs down in the left hand sidebar. And soon you will see this link added: http://www.sextoyz.in

You might enjoy checking that out today. Nat's talking about using a vibrator...and got pictures.

I went, I read...and my eyes popped at the look of the vibrator. Sex Ed here kiddies. Go, look, see, and then come back and tell me if you ever saw one like that before--and if you can recommend it or not. Or...whatever you think when you see it. Or if you refuse to go see it, and on what grounds. LOL The blog is light and pretty, and has a lady in a bathtub of bubbles and I get a real rubber ducky feel there...until I see the thing. ;)

1 Comments:

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Birds are singing

I decided a couple days ago that I would go back to my routine. The one where I went to bed earlier than midnight. I've been staying up to hang out with my family. (I know--weird that they stay up so late every single day.)

I am a morning person, really. So, here I am--before 7 a.m. and I've been awake for an hour, going through my inbox...which is a neverending thing, sorta like laundry. You gotta go through it though.

Anyhow, wasn't it Ben Franklin that said, "Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise?" (I figured it couldn't hurt. I need all three of those.)

Moving on to another topic now...I went to my first meeting for my daughter's Senior Grad Night. We're doing a pampered chef party for a fund raiser. Not quite like the good one I posted earlier on my blog. Okay, I have to come clean...I am posting challenged. If it requires graphic placement, my wondering web people (J&J designs--Jaymi and Joanne)do it for me. Gotta give credit where credit is due.

But, back to the not-bare-butted pampered chef party...I set it up. Then it snowed. And we haven't gotten the flyers out YET. Supposed to go to the kids today--and end this week.

It's a no effort deal. All you gotta do if you want to order is go to the website and place your order. It comes directly to you. No hassle. Delivery guaranteed by Christmas if you put your order in this week.

If you or anyone you know is interested in ordering, that would be great. Please spread the word. Thanks in advance to anyone who does order.

I'm using the party to buy presents for my mom and sisters who live in different states--so I can send them something nice but not have to hassle with shipping it. So, this is a great idea for those with friends or family far away.

I swear by their stuff. My cookies and cakes don't burn on the edges when I use their stoneware. I have a pizza cutter that has, literally, lasted us 10 years and still works and looks like new. There are no better oven mitts and hot pads or spatulas anywhere in the universe, imo. They don't melt!! They are worth the money, I swear. I've had some for ten years, and I've got five kids who love to destroy things or, at the very least, make them ugly, using them improperly--but they've had no success with these. I love my spatulas!

Sales pitch over. If you're interested, it would be a great support to Senior Grad Night Project (Spokane Missouri High School).

All you have to do is go to:http://www.pamperedchef.biz/areyoupamperedGo to: Order ProductsType in: Spokane High Schooland start shopping!If you have any issues or problems ordering, just contact Carol Platt, who is the pampered chef gal handling it, and she'll take orders via email or on the phone, or walk you through the process. Her email is: carol.platt@sbcglobal.netIf you want to book your own party, it gives the $3 to the project.

Do it if you want. No pressure. At least go check it out and browse their catalog.Special thanks to those who decide to order something.

Do it soon. Like I said, to get it by Christmas, you need to order by Dec. 14 at the latest. Orders placed after that will not be guaranteed for Christmas delivery.

Sunday, December 10, 2006

I am sitting in a dark house. There is snow still on the ground outside, but a lot of what we got last week has melted.

The only lights I can see are the computer screen and a heater that lights up with orange coils.

I love my private time in the mornings, before other people get up. I love the silence. I love my family but they are noisy. Or, rather, they always want noise going in the background. The tv goes on the minute they're up, or a radio. It drives me crazy.

Okay, I've been crazy for a long time. It's hard to tell what really drove me there.

I'm drinking water, but I'd love to curl up on the couch with a book and a hot cup of cocoa with some mini marshmallows in it, and maybe some buttered toast for dipping.

But, alas, my 15 yr old son decided to sleep on the couch last night, and that is not on the diet.

I have not lost any weight in a month+ despite the fact that I have been faithful--not eating anything with sugar, or flour. No potatoes or pasta. No sodas. Only meat, some cheese, and salads.

Tell me how that works.Okay, I DID have Thanksgiving. But even everything that day was made with splenda and I only had modest servings of potatoes and gravy and dressing. And three small rolls. So, I didn't go hog wild all day. (I'm planning to on Christmas. I mean, geez. What's the point?)

One day in six weeks.Now, I look on the internet and see that my depression medicine may be sending my brain wrong signals as far as the diet goes.

That's what I need...my medicine telling my brain "Don't believe it, we're not going to let her lose weight no matter what she does." Now, if that isn't depressing. ;)

I gained weight the last time I starved for three weeks. Okay, I called it fasting because I prayed a lot. Same difference. Only drank water. 21 days later, I had gained 2-3 pounds.

So, my body makes no sense.

I don't know what it is...but I am twice more depressed this time of year. Got any pick me ups? Should I stop looking in the mirror? Should I stop caring? Should I...do something else? Taking all suggestions. What do you do to get out of depressions, weight funks, holiday humbugs...any or all of the above?

3 Comments:

WEight funks are so hard to get out of. Sorry, I really don't have any tips, but I can definitely commiserate.

The only thing I can really say is DO NOT stop caring. I don't think you'd be the same wonderful person you are if you did that.

This time of year is always more depressing for me too, but for a different reason. It's so family-centered. If you're single with no possible prospects in sight, you can pretty much forget about being included in anything unless someone invites you along then you just spend all evening feeling like a third wheel.

Well I know from where I was dieting and exercising I would gain weight a few times but my clothes fit better. I found that muscle weighs more that fat so even though the scale said one thing my clothes said another. Does that make you feel better

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Sex Quotes

The following quotes were sent to me by another author, Desiree Erotique...now, if that isn't a non de plume you can spot from a mile away...

I though some were quite funny. Others clever. (And I don't have time to write about my plans since my daughter has two parades this morning. Yeah. I gotta get my buns in gear so I can go out and freeze my ass off.)

Anyhow, think nice thoughts of me while you're curled up on your sofa with hot chocolate and fuzzy slippers and a flannel lap blankie with your favorite book this morning.

Enjoy!

Obscenity is whatever gives the Judge an erection. ~Author Unknown

The tragedy is when you've got sex in the head instead of down where it belongs. ~D.H. Lawrence

Pornography is supposed to arouse sexual desires. If pornography is a crime, when will they arrest makers of perfume? ~Richard Fleischer

Tell him I've been too fucking busy - or vice versa. ~Dorothy Parker

Kinky is using a feather. Perverted is using the whole chicken. ~Author Unknown

The difference between pornography and erotica is lighting. ~Gloria Leonard

I regret to say that we of the FBI are powerless to act in cases of oral-genital intimacy, unless it has in some way obstructed interstate commerce. ~J. Edgar Hoover

An erection is like the Theory of Relativity - the more you think about it, the harder it gets. ~Author Unknown

Sex. In America an obsession. In other parts of the world a fact. ~Marlene Dietrich

To hear many religious people talk, one would think God created the torso, head, legs and arms, but the devil slapped on the genitals. ~Don Schrader

Life in Lubbock, Texas, taught me two things: One is that God loves you and you're going to burn in hell. The other is that sex is the most awful, filthy thing on earth and you should save it for someone you love. ~Butch Hancock

You know, of course, that the Tasmanians, who never committed adultery, are now extinct. ~W. Somerset Maugham, The Bread-Winner

The best sex education for kids is when Daddy pats Mommy on the fanny when he comes home from work. ~William H. Masters

Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin - it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring. ~S.J. Perelman

Friday, December 08, 2006

I spent all day yesterday writing a 7000 word story about a guy who traveled back in time--to stop Pearl Harbor. Only, he didn't know how he was going to do it.

Sometimes it's fun to write things that seem almost possible but could never really happen.

HEA Happy Ever After endings are like that to me.

All of us want it. But how many people actually live happily ever after--with no worries of needing more money, or cars breaking down, or our significant other cheating? Even if you have enough to cover the bills, and your beater car chugs along, and your spouse/s.o. doesn't stray--we still worry about the what ifs. At least, I do.

Today, I am going to dwell on...what if I could lose the weight I need to get rid of?I saw a lady on tv yesterday wearing a really pretty evening gown. She was acting silly. (Barbara Jean from Reba) And I thought, I'd love to wear things like that more often...just for fun.

I wonder why I feel like I have to lose weight to wear the clothes I like. At RT, there were large women in some very skimpy outfits...totally enjoying theirselves. I, on the other hand, wore my regular frumpy stuff. He says if we go again, he wants to see me out there in that sort of thing--which may be my incentive for sticking to this diet. I just don't think I can lose enough weight to be that daring by next spring...and I'll probably need some sort of medication to give me the nerve.

It's funny, because I can talk to 500 people. I can run a program, as MC, for, oh, 1000 people and not be nervous. But me...dress like I want to--to go out on the town in the evening?

There's got to be a name for a phobia like that. Anybody know what it is?

4 Comments:

I don't know, but I've got it too.

Although I wouldn't say I could run a program without any problem. The year I had to do the presentation at the awards banquet for OWFI, I was glad to be behind the podium so no one could see my knees shaking!

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Excerpt time!

Has it been forever since I gave you a little snippet to read? I think so! Here's a piece of the book I'm working on for mojocastle. It's, most definitely, a werewolf/garou deal.

The set-up: Maya has just come from a nice little sexual experience with a guy named Trevyn, where she made love to him--via a magickal portal--that let her walk through a smoky fire into a tipi where he was sitting naked. (Yeah, that IS something you'll want to read.) So, since Gaia (The Great Earth Mother God)had granted her wish--which was to have her true soul mate revealed to her, Maya is a little surprised to run into THIS guy, Brandon, as she leaves the altar at the Lake of Tears.

At first, he scares her. Then he tells her that he saw what she did. (Erotic movements, naked on a glacier--I'm telling you, it's a gotta read.) And he also says that when she asked Gaia to show her her soul mate, he almost stepped out of the shadows...then he realized she wasn't her sister (Sandy/Sand.)

However (I know, this is a way long set-up)...other garou slink in the woods around them and he pulls her into his arms--making them think she is totally with him. And then, to keep her safe from these slinky things, he takes her to a cabin...where she realizes that he was expecting to be with his lover. Except, her sister, Sand, was raped a year earlier and could not possibly be coming to him every night--not without some magick going on. Enter Raven's Mischief. Raven is a spirit the Athabaskans (Alaskan Indians) believe in. And he has provided both Brandon and Sand with this freaky green stuff in flasks...which they drink from. It's a hallucinagenic or something.

With no more ado, here it is:

…he led her into a line shack with heavy leather tacked over the interior of the windows, blocking light and wind. He bolted the door’s three deadlocks before he turned to light a lamp. With each one, she felt her organs lurch. First, her stomach, then her bowels, and when he turned to look at her as he pushed the last bolt into place, her heart turned over in her chest.

This…this was not good.

There was an expectancy in the air, and she had to suck in a deep, full breath to dispel some of her own nervousness. Anxiety and apprehension. Surely he could smell it getting stronger. She forced herself to stop staring at him, and look around.

The place had bare wooden planked walls, no décor, but was well stocked with emergency food and cooking supplies, several blankets, and boilable pouches of water. There was a small table with two chairs and a bed—freshly made, by the looks of it.

There was the big surprise. Rose petals covered the turned back sheets. Her gaze shot to Brandon. Where had he gotten rose petals clear out here? Had he choppered in and out of the city just to get them? That seemed extreme. He’d done that…for Sandy?

Her heart twisted with a pang. Ah. Was he that romantic? She almost liked him when that thought occurred to her, but it didn’t dispel her nervousness. Sandy wasn’t there. Maya had no way to protect herself against a wolf of his size.

Her throat tightened up. She watched him move to a brazier and light it. There were noises outside and no mistake that the entourage had followed them. Alone with Brandon, locked in, she wondered again if she should have taken her chances at running.

One thing she noticed as she watched him, the guy didn’t waste energy. A certain leashed power about him, he stood and took his coat off. Beneath that, he wore a wool high neck sweater over tight pants. His thighs were large, as were his shoulders and biceps, sporting the usual broad and solid Indian-Athabaskan physique.

He retrieved something from the shelf, a flask, and held it out. “Here. This will warm you up, fast.”

Since her toes and fingertips were numb, she didn’t argue. The liquid was bitter, and burned going down…and had a grittiness to it, like it was an herbal mixture in liquor of some sort. Absinthe? She used the back of her hand to wipe her lips, and it came away green. She passed the flask back, and he took a big swig then capped it and put it back.

She couldn’t help compare the look of him, in bulkiness, to her wolf lover. This man was much larger—too big for her tastes—much like the brutes Miff had guarding the edges of his territory. And there was a definite frustration about this guy. That was what she smelled. She sniffed twice to be sure.

“Take off your coat,” he ordered. “This thing will blast us out of here in no time.”

“I—I’m cold, thanks.” But not for long. Liquid heat had filled her belly and was now coursing through her. She stumbled backward a few steps as a pain sliced through her head. She bumped into something, and he turned around, and frowned, concerned at once.

“Are you all right?” He set the flask on the table and crossed the distance in three strides. She backed up again, hitting the wall, cornered—and thought that she might be able to shift and slash him before he could get through her parka. Brandon hesitated though, reading her without any trouble.

“Maya. You’re going to be here awhile. You will pass out from heat if you keep it on.” Gesturing to those outside the cabin, he added, “They think you’re Sand. She never leaves until right before dawn.”

“I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t—”

“What? Fraternize with the enemy?” He closed in on her personal space. “If you think that, then you don’t know your sister.” Forcing her hands out of the way, he deftly opened her coat and took it off of her, then gestured with a hand out. “The sweater, too.”

Wrapping her arms around her front, she said, “No. This is good.” Something was wrong with her. Her brain was going fuzzy. Her vision blurred.

His eyes flashed. “I’m losing my patience.”

“So am I.” Her defiance lasted all of two seconds before she dropped her gaze, thinking she might fall down. What had been in that drink?

“Fine.” He said easily, surprising her as he tossed the coat onto the table—where he’d put his, and then he reached out. “I’ll just rip it off of you.” His lips twisted. Her gaze came up to meet his, and topaz flashed in his eyes. He said honestly, “I like that sort of foreplay.”

She jerked away. “I—I don’t want foreplay.”

Against her will, he snagged a grip on her sweater and pulled her to him. She fought it, and the freaky thing going on inside of her, and ended up backed into the corner again. He towered over her, grinning wickedly.

“What do you want?”

Pinning her gaze to his adam’s apple, she said, “Noth—nothing from you.”

“Wrong.” He put his nose to hers and she realized the truth of being crowded and cornered. He was everywhere, all around her, and there was no escape.

The essence of complete terror escaped her pores, and she smelled it, and knew the second he did, too. His nostrils flattened, and his gaze narrowed. With his one hand on her sweater front, the other extended, taking a whole handful of her hair, tilting her head back.

Rape seemed imminent. She could tell he was angry for some reason, but she didn’t know why. She squeaked in pain at the twist of hair at her scalp. His features blurred.

“You are…everything Sand isn’t. Aren’t you?”

Except for being female, yes. Why did that make him cagey? Was he angry?

“I—I’m s—sorry.”

He held her there, like that, looking her over for several seconds. And then, when she thought he might let go, he kissed her. It was an assault, a ravaging kiss that devoured her, sucking her in—attesting to the man’s prowess at seductive control. She only fought a few seconds.

His hands began to rove, groping, sliding under her sweater, and the next thing she knew, he had divested her of it, yanked it over her head, kissed her some more while her arms were tangled up in it and dropped it in such a smooth move—his hands not leaving her body for more than a second. She didn’t even, really, comprehend what he’d done. She let out a little protest, but he swallowed that, too, and the span of his huge hands took hold—his thumbs rubbing the underside of her breasts, the wideness of his palms owning her, his fingers spreading over her back.

Damned, if she didn’t find the touch arousing as it softened, as his lips pliantly persuaded her to participate as an equal partner. She hated the feeling that she was betraying her wolf lover—and soul mate, and maybe her sister, but Gaia had allowed her femininity to be awakened, and there was no denying it.

Maya wondered briefly if the drink was swaying her thinking on this, but she dismissed that. Gaia had obviously offered her two soul mates. Who was she to refuse the Great Mother? She had heard of people taking two mates. Why not her? Many of her kind moved from relationship to relationship.

In the middle of her kissing introspection, Brandon lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his body, clinging. If he’d let go, she would have slipped to the ground, she was sure. He carried her to the bed, and laid her on the rose petals, then climbed over her. Her legs spread, cradling him as they were meant to do, and she felt his arousal through their pants, firm as a rod.

Once more, his hands moved through her hair, grabbing handfuls, only this time it was gentle. He lifted his head and searched her eyes. She saw sadness in his expression, and felt his fingers flick—and she knew a rose petal had landed in her hair.

Gruffly, he said, “I want to fuck you.”

She’d gotten that from his actions, but talking about it had her wary. Why was he stopping? Should she encourage him or be silent…? Why was her thinking muddled? She should know the answer!

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

It's that time of year--where everyone you know, and every group you are a member of, is throwing a party. Aren't you excited?

For years, I loved this time of year. I threw my own parties. But the last couple of years, I'm not real excited about them. It seems the parties I go to get lamer and lamer.

And I subscribe to the addage "A party is only as fun as the people at it. If you're not having a great time, you need to do something different." And God help you if you're the only one there that's not having a great time.

So, I would assume it's me--just not in the right spirit or something. Except...my husband and my kids tend to climb in the car after parties, too, and say, "Yeah, that one didn't impress me either."

What do you think are the quintessential ingredients of a good party?

I'd say, first, it's the people--I hate to say the quality of the people, but...their ability to relax and enjoy the premise that they're at a party?

Second, it seems that good eats are part of every good party memory in my brain. (I am overweight, this had to rank somewhere in the top three.)

And, maybe games, entertainment.

Fourth, decor/ambiance?

How would rank these things? Would you put something else up in the top three or four? Or do you have some TIPS for making a party better?

I have a number of them to go to and I want to enjoy them. I want to look forward to them.

You'd think a girl on anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication wouldn't have to ask these questions, wouldn't you?

And why is this year so hard for those who are depressed in the first place? Any ideas?

The only parties I go to are family parties and when you are with people you love, it's always nice. I think there is too much pressure at Christmas for everything to be perfect and that's not possible. Too many tv shows and books make you think something is wrong with you if you are not all exited about the holidays and if you don't have a "Martha Stewart" home and Christmas. We need to stop expecting perfection and just relax with the people we care about.

Never been much of a party person. Hate mingling with people I don't know. My favorite get togethers are with family. It is there that I am comfortable and always have a good time with lots of laughter and wonderful food.

Monday, December 04, 2006

COLD and KIDS

I'm cold. My house is freezing this morning. And my kids are home from school because that's closed for the day--but my son's alarm has been beeping for an hour--driving me crazy, driving me out of my bed.

Which forced me to check the heat source--and find it is not on--at all. So, I woke up amazingly happy and thrilled to be alive. (ha)

Now, a sensible person would go and turn that alarm off. But I have hounded my son to do it. I've always been a light sleeper, so I don't understand people sleeping through stuff like that. But I know the only way to train them differently is to MAKE them get up to turn it off...which is why it isn't right beside his bed. Because he'd just hit the button and snooze some more.

Are you light sleepers or heavy?

I'm working up to something here...for the whole last month, I've spent all day at the computer, taking care of the crappy part of being a writer--doing final edits and stuff like that. I promised myself I'd write something fun all last week but I never got to it.

Today, however, I swore that I WOULD write myself a sexy, edgy little werewolf thing...that you would love. Or finish the one I started in October. So, I'm putting on the head phones and cranking up some sexy music.

I think I'll start with Panic at the Disco. I dunno what the name of the song is--because my daughter downloaded it...but it's a guy singing to a girl who's cheated on him. Something twisted in me loves this song over and over and over again...because he has this one line that says "we can touch a better fuck", he talks about testosterone boys and harlequin girls, which I totally think could be great names for stories.

Anyhow, I challenge you to find this song and tell me what the name of it is. And the first one that does will get an extra entry into the blog posting contest for December.

So, now I'm gonna go and listen to that nasty little piece and see if I can get some writer mojo going on a story. I'll let ya know how that goes. ;)

3 Comments:

I've never heard the song, and I'm glad I haven't, but a quick Google search indicates that it might be "Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off."

I'm a heavy sleeper when I'm at home in my own bed (although not so heavy that I'd sleep through my alarm for an hour - my record is about five minutes) and a light sleeper when I'm somewhere unfamiliar.

I'm a medium sleeper. I don't feel like I'm a heavy sleeper but I know for sure I'm not a light sleeper.

I don't use an alarm clock anymore. I had too many that never went off, so if I ever set one, I wake up every two hours to make sure it isn't past time to get up. Stupid, I know. But I'm just so paranoid about alarm clocks anymore. Besides, I almost always wake up by 7:30 anyway. With a few exceptions.

I don't know how anyone, regardless of light or heavy, could sleep through an alarm for five minutes, much less an hour! That stupid thing would definitely be finding its way OUT a window. lol.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Witchcraft questions

(not preachy or depressing, btw)

I was raised in a Christian home. There were a lot of things that my mom said "Just stay away from" including tarot cards, witches, the pentagram...and a long list of other things that included just about every other church that we didn't go to.

As an adult, my spiritual path has taken me past her ingrained fear of all those things. I am open to asking questions, and trying to understand all the things she wasn't will to even hear about.

I've found that I'm drawn more to spiritual individuals than religious people. I prefer the soft whisper of the spirit to the haranguing tones of a fanatic preacher.

For example, I was raised where all liquor was taboo. As an adult, I've been able to reason out that a drink here and there is not a sin. After all, Jesus drank wine every day. (Some say it was really just grape juice. Who cares?)

Anyhow, my mother told me to avoid witches and those who would practice "priestcraft or witchcraft" at all costs. And then I met a few witches...and wiccans.

And I will say, I've seen more than I want of those who like to wicked things and stir the pot. (Ha! A place where that metaphor really is appropo!)

But I've met many a psychic or intuitive that is interested in only that which comes from good and begets good, that which is of the white light (as opposed to the darkness).

So, my question to you readers is...how do you feel about witchcraft?

I find I am drawn to shows like Charmed and Psyche, and I enjoy Haunted Places.

I wonder...do you believe in spells? I noticed on ebay this week that there are haunted items for sale--things like rings that have spells cast upon them. Reading about the casters of said spells has intrigued me.

I have no desire to "do magic" of that ilk myself, but I wonder if there isn't something to it. What do you think?

Do you know anyone that has cast a spell or had a spell cast on their behalf?

Yes, I do believe in witches and spells. Yes, I believe they can be done for good or ill. I do not consider myself a witch, though I have worked a spell to find a new job and get out of a not-so-good situation (when I lived in Dallas -- totally broke).

I don't go to church very often any more. I've been quite satisfied with my own form of worship/reverence to the Divine. I think the Divine/God/Universe/whatever you call it is in large part a creative force; when you are being creative yourself, you are honoring that and -- in a sense -- engaging in a form of worship. Of course, that is just my opinion. *s*

I went to a Souther Baptist church for a long time. When I finally figured out that yes I can think for myself, I was told repeatedly that I was going to hell for some of my ideas and questions.

Well excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me! I'll see you there, then. (No, I never said it, but it was definitely tempting.)

I think anything being sold on eBay that's "haunted" or "bespelled" is something to stay far far away from. It is quite possibly a scam, a money-laundering scheme, or just plain bad news.

Personally, I do read Tarot and do pendulum dowsing on occasion. My ideas and beliefs are similar but still quite different than a lot of people around here, so I keep them largely to myself.

1 Comments:

In great and exciting news, hear the trumpet sounding, listen to the drum roll, winners for November's contests are:

Sue A. won the drawing for posting on the blog. Remember, this is an ongoing type of contest. Only those who post on the blog can get in on the drawing. Please post like crazy in December! http://carysweldonblog.blogspot.com/Sue A. please email me with your choice of gift certificate. Would you prefer one from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Paypal cash?

Special thanks to those who hunted the world over and found some links where my books are still available. This is an ongoing contest, too. So, if you can another place that my Carys Weldon books are available, post the link to the blog and you'll be in for a second drawing.Here's the winner--isn't it funny that there is a website called KNIGHTS OF THE MASHING FORK?Knights of the Mashing Fork (yes, it's a real site allright - Surprised me too!)) selling your Wanton Werewolf series. Link : http://kotmf.com/store/us/product/1554106818.htmBy aBookwormSo, aBookworm needs to email me with what type of gift certificate is preferred.Liz Denler won the last newsletter contest--which asked the question "Which hotel/resort did I stay in while visiting my mother in Mesquite, Nevada?" The answer was the Casablanca. Liz, if you're out there, please email me with your preference on type of gift certificate.

Friday, December 01, 2006

Deadlines...I have so many.Today, I have to finish up some adjustments to a poetry manuscript/collection under contract with Rain Publishing Inc. (Canada).

I have to do preparations for a speaking engagement I have tomorrow to a small group of writers in Kimberling City.

And I have a novel called Dead Line that is under contract with Zumaya Publications for release in 2007.

There are dead power lines all over my area, but thankfully not here. We have snow on the ground, and the 24 hr plus drizzle of rain and ice has stopped coming down, but I woke up with a cough. Just the thing I don't need before I'm supposed to speak somewhere.

Oh, yeah. Today, I'm doing the drawing for November's three contests and new ones begin. All the same. So, keep posting. Keep looking for websites that carry my books that haven't already been mentioned. And be sure and read the newsletter--which you should see sometime today.